Friday, May 13, 2011

Not My Boobs Anymore

I wanted to breastfeed Vae, but I got complications and it didn't work out. It broke my heart, but she is still perfectly healthy so I'm ok with it. I'll try again with the next baby :-) and I'll do more research so I'm better prepared! This is just a humorous take on breastfeeding. :-) We all have struggles as parents so we might as well smile through it!
Not My Boobs Anymore
From the moment that slippery body slides out of you, your life changes forever. This little person who is half YOU has come into the world and you cannot put into words the new emotions you have.
With those new emotional changes come new physical changes, and you brace yourself to set out on that beautiful journey so many mothers and books have told you about. Breastfeeding. That inexplainable yet unremarkable act that fills your child with the purest nutrients. The sole purpose for those lumps on your chest has finally arrived. Your baby latches on and you are in pure Heaven!
Wait a minute...Heaven? Nobody told me how hard a teeny newborn can suck on a nipple! OW!  Now my nipples are cracked, raw and bleeding, and I'm still expected to put that devil mouth back onto it to crack it some more?! Ok...I can do this. It's fine. No big deal.
I've always wanted big boobs. I used to dream about being a Victoria's Secret Model, flashing my goodies in those insanely expensive (but totally worth it because they're so cute) bras. This is probably as close as I'll ever get: sitting at Auntie Ann's in the Mall, whipping my nice swollen ta-ta's out of their discount mommy-bra and instead of adorning it with lace or silk, direct it into the impatient mouth of a hungry babe, most likely drawing the attention of those eager to scream "No pda!"
And now that I have the big boobs...they're realllly big. Too big! I'm engorged! These suckers feel like a water balloon filled to the brim. I just KNOW they're going to burst like that woman who got a boob job and then flew on a plane and they exploded! Help me!!
You know when you go to a club and get a pitcher of your favorite beer, then spend the rest of the evening just sipping on it, leaving it to go dance to that new Lady GaGa song, coming back for a gulp, pausing to text your friends that you're having an awesome night, etc. etc...Substitute boob for beer. Nobody told me I'd be an Open Bar! Boobs on Tap, come and go as you please!
All right, I can accept all that. The rawness has gone down and the kid has mastered the latch. HOLY CROW WHAT WAS THAT?! Baby has a tooth now! Teething rings, frozen waffles, mommy and daddy's shoes. Anything baby can get her hands on during these frantic teething months goes directly in her mouth to rub desperately against those aching gums. "Hey look a boob! Let's chew on it!" Baby gnaws on that thing like it's the most scrumptious chocolate chip cookie ever known to man!
Remember the days when your significant other would hold you close, trail his hands down your sides and massage one of the most tender spots on your body? Pure shivers down the spine. Yeah...those days have been replaced with impatient pinching, blood-inducing biting and spontaneous leaks through shirts in public that keep the men at a safe distance. Momma can't get no lovin' anymore.
As I'm lifting my shirt for the last (please let it be the last) feeding of the night, the vulture child grabs my boob possessively and shoves it deep into her mouth. I start to wonder, "What the HELL was I thinking, choosing to breastfeed?!"
Then I look down, and catch hold of those sweet little eyes gazing up at me saying "I love you, Momma. You love me more than anyone else." That innocence and pure dependency, that unrequited love, that complete trust and faith she has in me, that I will give her anything in the world. I will take care of her. I will let her chew my boobs to beef jerky and suffer the late night engorgement just so I can see that look in her eyes.
Oh yeah...THAT'S what I was thinking.

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